The Lungu Debacle: How the HH Administration Mishandled a President’s Final Journey

The Lungu Debacle: How the HH Administration Mishandled a President’s Final Journey

_By Brian Matambo, Sandton, South Africa_

The death of former President Edgar Chagwa Lungu, once Zambia’s Commander-in-Chief, should have been marked by solemnity, dignity, and national unity. Instead, it has unfolded into a diplomatic mess, a constitutional disgrace, and a political scandal of epic proportions, all under the reckless watch of President Hakainde Hichilema’s administration.

This is not a case of miscommunication or bureaucratic error. It is a deliberate sequence of vindictive and politically charged actions that have humiliated the Lungu family, divided the nation, and shamed Zambia on the international stage.

First came the lawsuit. In an unprecedented and frankly bizarre move, the Zambian government, led by the Attorney General, sued a sitting South African minister in an attempt to block the funeral arrangements for Edgar Lungu in South Africa. The sheer audacity of this action, filed in a foreign court, was not only diplomatically tone-deaf but also constitutionally questionable. It was a desperate attempt to maintain control over a man they had vilified in life and now sought to control even in death.

Then came the leaked audio. In it, PF defector and political operative Chabinga is heard insinuating that he had been sent by President Hakainde Hichilema himself to bribe South African judges in an effort to influence the outcome of the case surrounding the Lungu funeral dispute. If true, this isn’t just reckless governance. It is an assault on international justice and a stain on Zambia’s global reputation. The fact that such a conversation even occurred points to the level of rot and moral decay in the administration’s political playbook.

And if the situation wasn’t already grotesque enough, lawyers aligned with the HH regime sent a legal demand to the Lungu family, insisting that Edgar Lungu’s body be made available “for authentication.” A former Head of State. A man whose identity is unquestionable. A national figure whose death had already been publicly mourned. Reduced to a subject of suspicion by his political enemies. It was an insult not just to his family, but to the presidency itself.

Each of these steps was unnecessary. Each was avoidable. Yet each was taken with intentional aggression, not by enemies of the state, but by the very people entrusted with its leadership.

Let us call this what it is: political vengeance dressed in legal jargon. The HH administration, rather than taking the high road of statesmanship, chose to weaponize grief for political ends. What should have been a unifying moment, a time to demonstrate leadership, compassion, and maturity, has instead become a dark chapter in Zambia’s democratic story.

And the people have noticed. Across social media, in churches, on radio talk shows, and in the rural heartlands, the questions are growing louder. Why is the President afraid of a dead man? Why is a grieving widow being harassed? Why is a government so obsessed with control that it sues foreign ministers, questions the identity of a former president’s body, and weaponizes the law against mourning citizens?

This is not governance. This is state-sponsored harassment.

Zambia deserves better. History will remember this moment not for the legal documents filed or the courtrooms entered, but for the cruelty inflicted on a family, a legacy desecrated, and a country made smaller by those who were supposed to elevate it.

May this serve as a warning. Power is fleeting. But dignity, or the lack of it, is remembered forever.